When the three stepped outside of Gucci, Cecelia said, “Where to now, Jasmine?”
That made Jasmine’s heart beat just a bit faster.
It was time.
“Oh, there’s a fabulous store in here called Bling. They compete with Swarovski crystal, only they’re much more upscale. And they have the best pieces—”
“Say no more,” Cecelia said, holding up her shopping bag. “Lead the way.”
Jasmine wanted to sprint right into the store. But she took slow, casual steps, as if she wasn’t in any kind of a hurry. As they strolled toward the escalator that would take them to the third floor, she thought about Mae Frances, and how once again, her friend—and her connections—were coming through.
Even though she’d only known this woman for a bit over seven years, it felt like Mae Frances had always been in her life. Mae Frances and her connections had saved Jasmine in her most devastating moments. Mae Frances and her connections had helped her to pass off her daughter as Hosea’s child. Mae Frances and her connections had helped her track down the blackmailer who had wanted the world to know that she’d been a stripper. And though they’d never discussed this, Jasmine was absolutely convinced that it was Mae Frances, and her connections, who had found Jacqueline and saved her from her kidnapper.
Mae Frances knew influential people who were now dead and plenty who were very much alive. And now she had a connection who had a connection with a little security guard, in a little store in Beverly Hills.
They stepped into Bling and the unsmiling, white-haired guard eyed the three of them as if he was trying to determine if they were worthy of entering the store. Finally, he glanced at Jasmine for just a second and gave her a short nod.
She nodded back and followed Rachel and Cecelia deeper into the store. Her eyes moved toward the three cameras that Mae Frances told her hung from the corners.
“Make sure you stay out of the camera’s vision,” she’d warned. “Buster’s security company gets all the tapes, but he said it would be better if he didn’t have to fix anything. Though he would, it’ll work better if this whole thing is clean.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Cecelia said. She was already standing at one of the glass counters. “These pieces are beautiful.”
The salesclerk smiled. “You’ve never seen our pieces before?”
“No, I haven’t. Can you believe it?”
“Well, let me show you.” The tall, lean woman unlocked a case and lifted a bracelet from the display. “We mix diamonds and crystals,” she explained. She wrapped the bracelet around Cecelia’s wrist.
“Isn’t this divine?” Cecelia asked.
“I want to try one,” Jasmine said.
The clerk took out another bracelet, hooked it around Jasmine’s wrist, then Jasmine and Cecelia held their wrists together and compared their pieces.
“That is so classy,” Cecelia said, admiring the black and white crystals that Jasmine wore.
“What about you, Rachel?” Jasmine asked. “What do you think?” She held up her wrist for Rachel to take a closer look.
“They’re all right.” Rachel pouted.
Jasmine pointed to a charm bracelet with a cross hanging from the center. “Oh, let her try this one,” she told the clerk.
“No, that’s okay.”
“Oh, come on, Rachel,” Cecelia said, helping Jasmine’s plan without even knowing it. “It’s not as much fun if we’re not all shopping.”
Rachel sighed as the clerk hooked the bracelet onto her arm, but then she smiled.
“And that’s only nine hundred dollars,” Jasmine said.
“Oh, I’m not worried about the price,” Rachel said. “It’s just that I’m not much of a jewelry person.”
“Don’t you like it?” Jasmine asked, pushing. “It definitely looks good on you.”
With Cecelia, Jasmine, and the clerk watching her, Rachel hesitated for a moment, as if she was considering the piece. Then she shook her head. “Naw.” She began to unhook the bracelet.
Right then Jasmine diverted Cecelia’s attention. “Did you see the necklaces?” She pointed to the counter in the back.
“Where?”
The clerk said, “Oh, you have to see the necklaces. I have a piece that would be perfect for you.”
When Rachel followed Cecelia and the clerk, Jasmine glanced at the cameras, then at the guard. He nodded, and she slipped the bracelet that Rachel had left on the counter into the palm of her hand. Her heart pounded as she edged toward Rachel. She glanced up once again at the camera, took a deep breath, then leaned forward, bumped Rachel, and dropped the bracelet into her purse.
“Dang,” Rachel said as she stepped away from Jasmine. “Why you gotta get all up in my personal space?”
“I’m sorry,” Jasmine said, backing away. “I just wanted to get a look at this necklace.” But she turned around, glanced toward the guard, and they nodded at each other.
Her heart still hammered—the deed was done. All she had to do was wait.
“You know what?” Cecelia said. “I’m going to think about this. I want to check out a few more stores.”
The clerk nodded and began returning the pieces that had been taken out.
“Why don’t we go to lunch now?” Rachel said, as if she’d had enough of shopping. “I really just want to sit down for a while.” She walked in front of them, and Jasmine slowed her own pace a bit so that it would look like Rachel was rushing.
To Cecelia, Jasmine whispered, “I think Rachel’s upset. She’s in such a hurry to get out of here.”
Cecelia nodded and frowned. “I wonder what’s wrong.”
Then … Rachel crossed the threshold and the guard scooted to his left, blocking her path.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You need to come back in here.”
Rachel whipped around. “What?”
The guard said, “In fact, all three of you ladies need to follow me.”
“Why?” Jasmine and Cecelia said together.
“Please,” he said, motioning with his hands toward the back of the store.
The three stood frozen for a moment before Cecelia said, “I’m not going anywhere until you tell us what this is about.”
“It’s about shoplifting, ma’am—”
“Shoplifting,” the three women said together.
The guard continued, “And I’m trying to straighten this out before I call the police.”
“I ain’t going nowhere,” Rachel said belligerently. “I didn’t shoplift a damn thing.” She turned back toward the door and the man blocked her path once again. This time, he unlatched his walkie-talkie from his waist and spoke into it.
“Ah, Rachel, Cecelia,” Jasmine said as people in front of the store slowed down to see what was going on. “Maybe we should just go with him and get this cleared up.” She turned to Cecelia. “We know it’s some kind of mistake, so after he figures that out and we get an apology, then we can get out of here.”
Cecelia nodded. “Rachel, come on,” she demanded. Then, to the guard, she said, “When you finish with us, you’re not only going to give us an apology, but I want your supervisor’s name.”
“I’ll be happy to give it to you, ma’am.” He motioned toward the back of the store.
It was the middle of the day, a Wednesday, and so there wasn’t the crowd that Jasmine would have liked. But just being marched to some back office had to be too much for Cecelia King.
As Cecelia, Rachel, and Jasmine passed the salesclerk, she eyed Rachel as if she was sure she was the culprit.
In the back, which was much more of a storage room than an office, the guard said to Rachel, “May I look into your purse?”
“Naw! You can’t look in my purse; I didn’t do anything.”
“Look, if it will help us to get this over with,” Jasmine said, “you can look in mine.” She opened her bag and shoved it under his nose.
“I don’t need to look in your bag,” he said. “I didn’
t see you take anything. I saw her.”
Jasmine made sure her eyes were as wide as Cecelia’s.
“What?” Rachel yelled. “You didn’t see me do anything because I didn’t even like this funky stuff. You better step back and stop lyin’.”
“Miss … just let me look in your bag,” the guard said, still maintaining his calm professionalism.
“No.” Rachel pressed her bag against her chest. “You not gonna treat me like some common criminal.”
“Well, then,” he said, “we can wait for the police.”
“Rachel!” Just the way Cecelia said her name was a demand. “I don’t want us to get caught up with the police … even if it is a mistake.”
Rachel pushed out a breath. “Here,” she said. She crossed her arms. “That’s why I can’t stand coming into stores like this because y’all always thinking it’s the black people stealing something. This ain’t nothing but racism and—” She stopped as he slowly lifted the bracelet with the dangling cross from her purse.
“Oh, my God,” Jasmine whispered.
“Rachel!” Cecelia exclaimed.
“I … I … that’s not mine.”
“You’re right,” the guard said. “It’s not yours.”
“I mean, I mean, I didn’t take it!”
Three pairs of eyes stared her down.
“I don’t know how that got in there,” Rachel said, her voice raised now.
Cecelia stepped forward. “How much does that cost? I’ll pay for it.”
Jasmine said, “It’s nine hundred dollars. Remember, that’s the bracelet that Rachel was looking at.” To the guard, she said, “Yes, we’ll pay for it. I’ll pay for it. I’ll pay double just to make this go away. She’s sorry, I’m sure.”
“I’m not sorry about nothin’,” Rachel said indignantly. “’Cause I didn’t do anything.”
The security guard shook his head. “Well, I’m sorry, but in this store, we prosecute shoplifters.”
“Oh, my God!” Rachel’s tears were instant. “I didn’t put that in my bag.” She turned toward Cecelia. “I wouldn’t do that!” And then she glared at Jasmine. She was crying a river when she screamed, “You did this!”
“What? No!” Jasmine shrieked. “I would never. And I could afford to buy it.”
Behind them, there was a quick knock and two uniformed officers entered the room.
“Oh, my God!” Rachel repeated as the guard told the LAPD what he’d seen and what he’d found.
Cecelia went into damage-control mode again. “Officers, this is a huge mistake. We were all trying on bracelets and there was so much going on. I can vouch for this woman.” She paused and glared at Rachel as if she wished she could let her rot in hell, but for the sake of the Coalition, she wouldn’t. “The bracelet probably just slipped into her bag.”
Both of the officers smirked at Cecelia’s explanation.
“Slipped?” one of them asked, almost laughing.
The other said, “We have to take her down to the station. That’s the store’s policy. If it just … slipped, we’ll straighten it out down there.”
“Oh, my God,” Rachel cried again as the other officer cuffed her hands behind her back.
Jasmine stepped closer to the officer and Rachel. “Is that really necessary? Handcuffs?” she asked, as if she wasn’t delighted.
He didn’t even acknowledge Jasmine as he began, “You have the right to remain silent …”
“I didn’t steal that bracelet,” Rachel screamed.
“We’ll figure this out, Rachel,” Jasmine said. “Officer, what station are you taking her to?”
“The one over on Rexford.”
“Call Lester, please!” Rachel cried as the officers flanked her and escorted her from the store.
Jasmine and Cecelia walked quickly behind her as the light afternoon crowd slowed their steps to stare at all three of them. At the elevators, the officers stopped.
One turned to Jasmine and Cecelia. “You won’t be able to come with us. You can meet her at the station.”
When the officers gently nudged Rachel into the elevator, Jasmine and Cecelia stood in the middle of gawking shoppers with their mouths as wide open as everyone else.
“I don’t believe this,” Cecelia said.
“Neither do I. But she was really looking at that bracelet.” Jasmine sighed as if everything that had just happened was completely unbelievable. “Should we go to the police station?”
Cecelia shook her head. “I’ve never set foot in one and I’m not going to do it today. We’ll go back to the hotel and get her husband to take care of this.”
Jasmine nodded and led Cecelia back the same way they’d come into the mall. There was so much that she had planned to say—like telling Cecelia that she didn’t know Rachel had wanted the bracelet so badly, or even telling her that Rachel had been arrested before.
But Jasmine said none of that. The thrill that she’d expected to feel when she watched Rachel being carted away just wasn’t there.
She didn’t know what had stolen her joy. Maybe it was the look of total shock and fear on Rachel’s face. Or maybe it was the thought of Rachel’s children being without their mother, even if it was just for one night.
Whatever it was, as Jasmine and Cecelia descended in silence on the escalator, Jasmine almost wished that she could take it all back.
Almost.
What Mae Frances had concocted, and what she’d just implemented, had to be done. Because Hosea had to win this election—by any means necessary. And Hosea would have won … if Rachel had just left it alone. But she hadn’t, and now Rachel had to pay.
She and Cecelia were still silent when they jumped into the car waiting at the curb exactly where the driver had left them. They were still silent when he edged away and sped down La Cienega, in the opposite direction of the police station where Rachel had been taken. And they were still silent when the car hit the freeway that would take them back to the safety of the hotel and the convention.
All Jasmine could think about was that the deed was done. And that was a good thing.
So why did she feel so bad?
Chapter
EIGHTEEN
As God was her witness, Rachel was going to strangle Jasmine Cox Larson Bush until she took her last breath. Right now, Rachel was thinking of a thousand and one ways for Jasmine to die. And if it took the rest of her life, Rachel wouldn’t rest until she made that Botox bimbo pay.
“Hey! No one has come for me?” Rachel screamed from the holding cell. She was so angry she couldn’t stop shaking.
“For the five-thousandth time, no!” the female deputy shot back. “I will let you know when someone gets here, so quit asking, you’re getting on my nerves!”
“I’ve been here fifteen hours and my husband should’ve gotten me out by now.” Rachel had been so hysterical when she’d arrived that they’d let her call Lester as soon as she got through booking. Cecelia had already filled him in and he was horrified at the news, but promised that he’d get her out as soon as possible.
The deputy appeared in front of Rachel, her hands plastered on her hips. She looked like she was about to explode out of her too-tight uniform. “You’ve been here less than two hours,” the deputy said, exasperated. “Now shut up and have a seat before I put you in the real cell.”
Two hours? That’s all? Rachel slinked away from the bars and then began pacing back and forth across the cell. She was no stranger to jail. She’d been put behind bars once when she was a teenager for stalking Bobby and pulling a knife on his new girlfriend. But that was a lifetime ago. She might lead a drama-filled life, but nothing about that life was criminal and she dang sure had never stolen anything. She couldn’t believe she was being accused of it now. Rachel knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jasmine was behind this whole mess. If she had to stay in this place overnight, they might as well give her a permanent spot because she was going to be right back for murder anyway.
Rachel glanced arou
nd the dingy cell. There were four other women there, two that looked like they’d just walked in off the street corner, another that looked like she used to be a man in a former life, and a mousy-looking woman who sat in the corner, terrified. Rachel had heard horror stories about women in jail, but luckily everyone seemed caught up in their own problems and no one seemed to be worried about her.
“Adams, I guess you can calm down now.”
Rachel jumped at the sound of the deputy’s voice. She didn’t even realize how long she’d been lost in thought. “Thank God, I’m getting out,” she said, scurrying over to the bars.
The deputy held her hand up. “Whoa, not so fast. You’re not going anywhere just yet. But you do have a visitor.”
“I’m not getting out?” Rachel asked.
“You are, but just for a minute.”
“This is so not fair.”
The deputy unlocked the door and stepped aside for Rachel to walk out. “You should’ve thought about that before you stole that jewelry.”
“I didn’t steal anything!” Rachel protested.
“Yeah, that’s what all you crooks say,” she said, slamming the door shut.
Rachel had never been so happy to see her husband. She raced to him and had just thrown her arms around his neck when the deputy shouted, “No contact!”
Rachel stepped back and fought back tears. “Do you see how they’re treating me? Like I’m some criminal.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Lester replied soothingly.
“Okay? Lester, do you see where I am? How is this okay?”
He motioned for her to take a seat at the small table next to them. She did and he slid in across from her. “Please tell me what in the world happened. Why do they think you stole a nine-hundred-dollar bracelet?”
Sinners & Saints Page 15
